


Here Comes the Terror

by nerevarar (jeses)



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Come Eating, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Gender Neutral Pronouns, Kissing, Leather gloves, Oral Sex, Other, Switch Reader, Unprotected Sex, and now, crossfaction relationships, enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers, fingering but with gloves on, first part is sneaky, gender neutral reader, handjob, like reader ties spy up with an extension cord that's it just his wrists, mild super mild bondage, more like, no gender is given but reader gets fucked, reader mildly degrades spy, switch Spy, thing and long penids, this is just porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeses/pseuds/nerevarar
Summary: When you catch the enemy Spy sneaking around the workshop one night, you teach him a lesson he'll never forget.The lesson seems to work too well, though, and he keeps coming around.**ART IN CHAPTER 2!!!**
Relationships: Spy (Team Fortress 2)/Reader, Spy (Team Fortress 2)/You
Comments: 23
Kudos: 57





	1. Here Comes The Terror

**Author's Note:**

> What was supposed to be a one-off fic with Spy where I practice writing porn is turning into a full on fic. :/ oops lol  
> I just can't let them go :sob:
> 
> Comments are appreciated! If there's anything you think i can improve on let me know... I am not a practiced porn writer at all lol and i want to get better so... we shall see...
> 
> Title comes from a super good song definitely recommend it: https://open.spotify.com/track/0IzWqKGbovrl6jEMsX4n8Z?si=FaRJ1CSyQziVHx_BRUyprw

You've ducked into the storage room at the behest of Dell, who needs some obscure drill bit for some obscure old machine he's tearing apart. 

It's not in the filing cabinet, it's not in the drawer with the screwdrivers, and you go to turn around and grab an old toolbox when the back of your forearm thunks onto seemingly thin air. 

_Shit_ is your first thought when you realize what's under your arm is not a ghost but instead has to be a Spy. You press your forearm harder down and realize you've made a mistake by not having your gun on you. The veil quivers and you see the outline of the Spy, his thighs pressed against the workshop bench and your arm pressing down on his upper chest. Immediately you step closer, your leg between his skinny little legs, and you use your weight to push his head against the wall. Spy grunts, his outline still visible from your contact with it and you notice his arm moving up. 

You grasp his wrists with your hands and then you're all pressed up against him, bodies touching as you try to hold him down. He slams his head against your own, sending you stumbling a bit but you've still got your hold on him. 

A glint from his blade reflects off the rays of light streaming in from the exhaust vent overhead. He's still got it clutched in his hand.

This time you headbutt him, harder than he had to you, dizzying both of you but at least confusing him enough to have him drop his knife. 

“Let me go,” he hisses, “or I will make your death very painful.”

“As if,” you snort. “I'll call Engineer in here right now, and he’ll take care of you real quick.”

“Then do it.”

“Oh, are you all pissy because I finally got the jump on you?”

For dramatic effect you grab both of his wrists with your dominant hand and cup his cheek with the other. 

“Angry that I'm the one who's finally in charge? Since I've set foot here you haven't left me alone once. Whispering all those stupid things and touching me right before you stab me in the back? How does it feel?”

You slide your hand down to his waist. Sure, his touches weren't exactly _unwelcome_ after a while, and the odd hate-you-but-would-fuck-you-in-a-heartbeat dynamic was fun and all, but now Spy was here at your whims. 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

“You want to know what I'm going to do to you? No, that's too easy. Why don't I just show you, instead?”

You lean in closer to his face, and whisper, “If you don't want this tell me now and I'll just have Engineer kill you.”

Spy doesn't respond for a moment, and you're about to call for Dell when he nods. 

“Show me, then, _ingénieur,”_ he swallows. Spy is still semi-cloaked, so you have to make a guess when you try to slot your body against his. You're close enough, his front pressed against yours. Maybe you shouldn't do this but you let his hands go, and immediately he's pulling you in for a kiss. It’s sloppy, of course, you can barely see him in the already-dim room. It's.. nice, though, and sends flutters through your gut. 

You pull away first to hook your hands beneath his armpits and lift him up onto the workbench, a surprised little huff leaving his lips. 

“You’re light,” you remark. 

“And you smell of motor oil,” is his retort, but you lift up his head and kiss him. Tongue is introduced this time, an odd sensation at first but once it's there it's welcome. This certainly isn't the first time he's done something like this. You know that for sure, actually, since he's Scout’s father- odd to think about when you're probably going to fuck him, but-

Spy’s left your lips and nuzzles your neck, planting wet kisses against your flesh. 

“Don’t leave a mark.”

“I wouldn't think of it.”

You take the reins again, reaching for the buttons of his dry cleaned suit. 

“You're staining my suit,” he sneers, but he obviously doesn't care when you pop open his coat and undo his tie. 

“It's not an issue when it's my blood, and all of a sudden it is?”

“It is an issue with your blood, too.”

“I'm getting tired of your attitude,” you berate him, and then you're backing away and pulling him off of the table. 

“Already? I was getting comfortable-”

You've pushed him to his knees, replacing his spot on the table.

“You're in my hands, Spy. Now, why don't you put that mouth to good use?”

His eyes narrow and for a moment you're worried you've gone too far. But with a vigor like you've never seen he hooks your thighs over his shoulders and presses a kiss to your inner thigh. Even though you've still got your thick overalls on the kiss sends a shock wave through your nerves and sets your hairs on edge. 

“So strong,” he notes. “You have to be, no? How else would you carry all of your toys?”

“They're not toys-” you start ready to argue but he reaches up and unhooks your overalls, the front flap falling open. 

“Such a shame you have to hide this.”

Through your clothes he kisses your stomach, and then he lifts up your shirt and exposes your bare flesh. His stupid leather gloves are still on and they catch on your skin when he runs his fingers across your stomach. 

“Are you ever going to uncloak?” You ask him. He gives no answer. Instead he hooks his hands in your overalls and pulls them down past your legs. When you rise up to let them fall he pulls your underpants down, too. You suddenly feel so much more exposed and again the thought of _is this a bad idea_ crosses your mind. 

Spy buries himself between your legs like a starving man, gripping onto where your legs meet your abdomen so tightly it would almost hurt. He’s anchoring you in your place on that workbench and oh, god, he’s good at this. What did you expect? Some people are born with all the talent. 

“Aren't you a little whore?” You stammer, sounding less sexy and more questioning. His eyes glance up to meet yours for a moment. 

“You were made for this, weren't you? Maybe I should keep you locked up in here, your only purpose to please me?”

Spy stops for a second. “Keep talking, _ingénieur.”_

And then he's back at his task. 

“You like when I talk to you like that, then. Not a surprise. I should've put you in your place a long time ago. Oh, I can just picture it now. You beneath me, your hands pinned under mine, you begging and pleading for some kind of release- oh, shit,” he’s working twice as hard, using his hand and tongue. 

“God damn, you're such a whore, you love this. I could keep you here for hours b-between my legs.. and- and you'd stay there as long as I'd keep you-! Fuck!”

To muffle yourself you bite your knuckle, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. The world fades into white for a few brief moments. 

Spy doesn't stop in the meantime, a wicked grin across his face once you finally open your eyes. 

“Jesus Christ,” you pant. He's completely uncloaked now. 

A knock on the door sends you both flying up. Spy disappears under his cloak as quick as he had uncloaked. You jump and quickly toss your overalls over your shoulders. 

“You good in there, partner?” Dell asks. 

“Yeah! Don't worry. Uh, I think I almost have it.”

“Need some help?”

Damn.

“This isn't over,” you hiss to Spy and then immediately yell to Dell. “Yes, please!”

* * *

  
  


You're in the kitchen when a breeze blows your hair aside and something digs into your pocket, then it's like nothing happened. Carefully you reach in, finding a piece of paper that wasn't there before. Wiping off your dirty pasta sauce stained hand on a towel you unfold the ornately folded paper. Inside, written in exquisite cursive, is a little letter to you. 

_Engineer,_

_The resupply shed this evening. 9 pm._

That's all it says. You glance at your watch. It's only 7 pm right now. 

A quick shower and a change of your uniform is all you need, making sure you're not being followed out to the shed when the clock nears 9. The shed is kind of your little workshop when you want to do a project by yourself, and something you've turned into a bit of a room for yourself. Your room inside wasn't bad, by any means, but it was small. And while the shed wasn't big it had a loft you crammed a mattress up into where the greenhouse roof shone down.

At first you're alone, and you make work of flicking all the lights on and turning on the space heater, and taking off your shoes. A little music, too, helps set the mood. 

“Ahem,” someone clears their throat and you spin around, the door shutting and a surprisingly relaxed looking enemy Spy entering. By relaxed he’s missing his usual scowl. 

“Can't get enough of me?” You joke and he just gives you a look. 

“I've brought wine,” he says, reaching into his coat and seemingly pulling a bottle from nowhere. “Do you have glasses?”

“Uh.. don't think so. But I'm not opposed to drinking from the bottle.”

“This is a two hundred dollar bottle of vintage wine, and you want to drink straight from it?” He blinks, dumbfounded. 

“I don't care how much it is. It's all going the same place.”

“You are a brute,” Spy remarks but a little smile tugs at his lips. He’s actually quite handsome, you really note, with how the dim shop lights bounce off his face. 

“Well, if it bothers you that much, I think I have a few cups around here...”

You stand up and start rifling through the drawers, eventually finding a few cups you’d filled with filtered water and brought out here. A quick rinse under a hose and they're good to go. Spy fills them carefully and hands you one, drinking his own. 

“This is a.. quaint little hovel,” he comments. 

“Thanks. I try to make it more becoming.”

You two exchange small talk for a bit while you finish your first glasses. 

It's... odd. Your former nemesis it seems is a great conversationalist. He mentions your decoration choices, the wine, the weather. 

Spy stands to refill yours and his cups, and then he leans down so casually and takes your face, and kisses you. It's not rushed like the last one, not rushed in any meaning, and it nearly knocks the breath out of you. As if it was nothing he pulls away and sits down in his seat again. 

“Why don't I repay the favor you did me?” You ask, clearing your throat.

“That was not a favor. That was an award,” he responds. 

“An award?” You snort. “Award for what, exactly?”

“Award for taking the most back stabs of your entire team.”

“Look, do you want me to suck your dick or not?” You remain straight faced through his teasing little grin. 

“If you so wish.”

He gazes up at you when you stand in front of him, willingly moving his thighs apart with your nudging knee. 

“You know,” Spy begins, “I never took you for the domineering type.”

“I don't mind being the bottom,” you reply, reaching out and running a hand down his chest. 

“Oh? Then why are you so insistent on manhandling and berating me?”

You think for a pause, and finally speak. “You need to be knocked down a few pegs.”

Your hand trails down towards his abdomen and then you lower yourself to your knees between his legs. 

“Someone has to do it, so why not me?”

His fingers grip the arms of the chair when you ghost over his clothed cock, but his face doesn't move an inch. 

“There’s just something about you that makes me want to punch you really hard. In the face.”

He threads a hand through your hair and you gaze up towards him. 

“But I'll settle for just sucking the soul out of you.”

The buttons on his suit are fine ivory and incredibly smooth when your fingers open his coat and push the fabric to the sides of his waist. Even though he’s a skinny thing he has some firm muscle obscured by a thin layer of fat, which is only normal. A little squeeze of his waist has his hips moving closer to your face as if he doesn't want you to know. 

His vest and button-up have the same glossy ivory buttons keeping them shut and they open with relative ease, exposing his bare gut. Just faintly you can make out a few faded scars here and there and a fine smattering of dark hair underneath his belly button and across his chest. He jumps when you snake a bare hand underneath the silk of the shirt hanging from his shoulders. Spy looks incredible sitting there, clothes mussed up and a semi-hard cock in his pants. 

“Are you going to stare, or do something?” He almost snaps impatiently. 

“Mm, I guess,” you sigh jokingly, and press your hand against his groin. 

He grunts low, a gorgeous growl escaping his throat when you palm him over his pants. 

“ _I_ _ngénieur,_ I am not a patient man,” Spy says, so quietly you almost don't hear him.

“Can you ask politely?” 

The glare he gives you would've killed you if it could and but he hisses out a “please.”

And then you undo his fine leather belt and his slacks and find his briefs underneath, black silk with his cock outlined by the fabric. A quick slip of your hand between the folds leads to his firm rod and he groans again, so delicious, the sound sending chills down your spine and a feverish feeling in your gut. 

Spy’s cock once you pull it from its silk confines is stiffening more and more with your every touch. He’s not that girthy but he’s long, and uncut, and a vein runs down the side that you thumb over. The hand he’s got entangled in your hair tightens and tugs at your roots a little. To test the water you give him a slow, languid stroke. God, everything Spy does is intoxicating, his thighs tensing up with your touch, how his other gloved hand grips the arm of the chair, his little growls. With each stroke of your hand his hips jerk a little like he’s being shocked.

You glance up at him again and your eyes meet when you put the head of his cock in your mouth. It’s salty, and it is similar to any other cock you’ve had in your mouth, but they weren’t Spy. Something about it feels so intensely erotic. His head falls back and hits the ledge of the chair. He pushes your head gently, motioning for you to take more of his cock and you do, huffing in a breath through your nose.

“Yes, yes.. You’re doing so well, _ingénieur.._ ” 

You start moving your hand that’s been settled on the base of his cock up and down, covering what you haven’t with your mouth yet. In a moment of boldness you take as much of him as you can, obscene gags and chokes filling the room when he holds you there. Once his grasp lightens up you roll back onto your toes and gasp. Without warning Spy leans down and smashes his lips against yours, your saliva mixing with his own when his tongue darts into your mouth. For a moment you think you’re going to pass out from being so lightheaded. Maybe it’s because all your blood is leaving your brain and pooling under your belt. 

“Come, come, please, I’m going to cum if you keep that up,” he pants against your mouth. 

“Huh? You’re not done yet?” You laugh between your own short breaths. 

“Please, let me- I want to be inside of you, please,” Spy begs, a sense of urgency in his voice. 

“S-Shit, yeah, I’ll let you, um- you want the bed, or-?”

“Anywhere, wherever you wish, _ingénieur_.”

“Well, come on, then.”

You stand up on shaky legs and pull him along up the rickety ladder towards the loft. You fall onto the bed and he follows suit, where you take the lead and throw a leg over his hips to straddle him. He rolls his hips up against yours and nimble fingers work at your overalls, tugging them down, and once they’re at your waist he nearly tears your shirt off. You’re working like he is, pulling his jacket off of him and then shortly after his shirt.

Spy grabs your waist and manages to push you over onto your back, swapping the roles and stripping you down to hardly anything, just your underclothes. It’s all so hurried and rushed and feels like a fever dream. You’re rolled over onto your stomach and a glance back at Spy shows he’s taking out a bottle of lube. Even though it’s a bit darker up in the loft you can see the lube is a pink hue. 

“Wow, fancy lube?” You laugh a little and he grins, rubbing the inside of your thigh.

“Only the best for you, _ingénieur._ I know you enjoy only the finest things. Maybe you want to drink this from the bottle, too?”

The cold liquid hits your hole and you flinch a little, but he soothes it by running his finger over your flesh. He must’ve taken his gloves off at some point because- whoa, whoa, he’s pushing his finger in you.

“Oh, God,” you gasp, clenching the sheets underneath you. There’s the ever so familiar brief second of uncomfortable pressure but so quickly it gives away for warm pleasure. Within moments he adds a second finger and it pulls a groan out of your throat. His pace increases and then he’s thrusting in and out of you, hitting that spot that makes stars swirl in your vision.

“I need to- oh, you’re going to make me cum, now, I- you bitch, just put it in me,” You stammer, barely able to pull words from your brain and form a sentence.

“You don’t even need a condom, you just need to fuck me!”

Slowly Spy withdraws his fingers from you and leave you feeling so empty it hurts.

“Are you sure, _mon mignon_?”

“God damn you, yes!”

The sheets rustle behind you for a moment and then he’s pulling your waist up so you’re on your knees. Spy rubs the head of his cock against your hole and slower than you think is fair he pushes himself in. Eventually he bottoms out against the back of your thighs and you feel like you’re being impaled, but in a sexy way.

“Spy, I’m telling you now if you don’t fuck me I’m going to lose it.”

“As you wish.”

And then he’s thrusting in and out of you, his hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise. Spy leans down and his entire upper body lays against your back.

“I’m going to cum very, very soon, _ingénieur_ , I won’t last much longer,” he huffs into your ear and you shudder against his grasp.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, do it, please, cum inside of me,” you babble. “God, you stupid sexy bastard, do it!”  
He grabs your wrists and presses them into the mattress while he fucks you hard, so much harder than you thought he could fuck you. He’s got an angle where it hits that same spot every time and you’re so lightheaded and pressure builds up in your gut and then when he bites you it sends you over the edge. A light show of stars and colors flash behind your shut eyelids and you can’t hear a thing but you can feel him thrust once, twice, and then one last time with a sense of finality. Spy’s cumming inside of you just as you asked, him letting out a grunt while he buries his face in the crook of your neck and collapsing on top of you. 

For a few moments you both lay there, and he pulls out of you with an obscene squelch.

“I don’t think I’ve been fucked like that in years,” you murmur against the mattress. Spy rolls over onto his back next to you and his eyes meet yours. And then once you realize he’s still wearing his mask but seemingly completely naked everywhere else you can’t hide the laughter you break out into.

“What’s so funny?”

“Y-You’re still wearing your mask,” you snort. “Sorry. It shouldn’t be that funny.”

Spy rolls his eyes but can’t hide his amusement at your laughter.

“What do you say we have some more wine, and do you want a cigarette?” Spy asks you.

“Wine, yes. Cigarette... maybe after next round.”

He’s more than happy to oblige your request.


	2. I Put a Spell on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy's desperate in battle.
> 
> **FEATURING ART FROM GOLDNGALAXIES.TUMBLR.COM 😭😭**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **FEATURING ART FROM GOLDNGALAXIES.TUMBLR.COM 😭😭**
> 
> DEAR GOD..... ummm I think I'm really starting to like these mfs... watch out this'll turn into a 150k slow burn enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers fic if I'm not careful......

It's right after you pick up a box of freshly dropped metal that your PDA starts beeping and buzzing in your pocket.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You exclaim. Dell’s somewhere up near the front lines. He can't get the sapper off, and you're sure Pyro’s there, too.

You've tossed the wooden crate down and armed your wrench, your boots hitting the ground heavily with each rushing footfall back towards your buildings. 

Once you've crossed the threshold into the room you immediately spot your own team’s Spy, the sly bastard, leaning against your sentry like it's none of his business. Of course he’s disguised as your Spy. The sapper’s taken down your freshly built dispenser. 

“You asshole,” you say. “You know I have to kill you now.”

“Mm.. maybe.”

He sticks the sapper to your sentry with ease and then drops the disguise. 

“If I don't get you first,” and with his words he lunges at you. Spy’s agile and pretty strong, you give him that, with how he nearly tackles you to the ground. Using all the strength in your legs you toss him off of you and into the sentry gun, sending both him and the now destroyed machine into a pile. He doesn't even have his knife out, how cocky.

When you raise your wrench above your head to slam it down into his head he puts his hands up. 

“I surrender, I surrender,” he smirks. “Why don't you, hm, I don't know... put me in my place?”

For a moment all you can do is stare at him, dumbfounded, and then you laugh. 

“You really came back _all_ this way and destroyed my things, during battle, just to proposition me for sex?”

He looks side to side, and nods, as if it was so obvious.

“You know they have cameras everywhere, right? They're probably watching us right now.”

“Oh, I have my ways, laborer.”

“Dear God, you're down bad,” you laugh again. 

You glance around the ceiling, but then it clicks in your head.

“You like this, don’t you? The risk, the thrill- you want someone to catch us. I get it now.”

Your wrench is lowered and you gaze down at Spy, who’s still laying in the pile of electronic remains. He’s on his back, legs bent at the knee and spread apart. The fact he has nothing to say in response confirms your theory.

“That’s really dirty of you, Spy.”

You want him, really, you do, but, is it worth it?

The look on his face is enough to win you over.

Cautiously, with a look over your shoulder revealing no one, you step forward and press your boot against his crotch. Not enough to hurt him, badly at least, but he flinches a little.

“You just want everyone to come find us, huh? What if everyone sees us? You want them all to know you like being bossed around?”

Spy says nothing but bites his lip. To test the waters you push a little harder against his cock and he jumps again but doesn’t say a word. So you move your foot around a little, nearly losing your balance trying not to accidentally crush his dick. That would be pretty unsexy.

An idea pops into your head and you grab the extension cord hung at your side.

“Hands up,” you order, motioning to his hands. Spy, eager for attention, does as you say, and it dawns on you then how bad he wants this. 

The risk of him being your enemy and you both being on the clock and someone finding you both sets your nerves alight.

You take your foot off of him and step instead so each of your feet are on either side of his hips. It's a bit hard to do with the metal but once you do you drop down and land so you're straddling him. 

And then, you lean down, pressing your chest against his as you grab his wrists and hurriedly loop them together with extension cord. You can almost feel his heart start beating quicker. His pupils dilate when your eyes meet his. 

“You have many talents up your sleeve, laborer. Knot tying?” He asks. 

“I could do better if I had the time.”

Once you've got his wrists tied you trail a hand down to his throat and give it a gentle squeeze. 

“Not that am I not enjoying this, but... there is metal digging into my back,” he complains. 

“Maybe you shouldn't have destroyed my sentry then, you weasel.” 

Your words directly contradict your actions when you brush aside a cleared spot on the ground next to you two and push him over onto it, taking you with him. 

Spy doesn't complain this time. 

“Oh, what am I going to do with you, Spy?”

Slowly you grind down onto him and he huffs out a breath. 

“You're practically hard already. All the build up getting to you?”

You roll your hips against his own again, and again, and reach down right between you two to rub at his clothed cock and yourself. Immediately the pleasure hits you through your overalls and Spy seems to like it too with how he inhales sharply. You don't think you can cum just from this and you don't really want to go much further right now so you focus your efforts on Spy, pressing your hand firmly against him and rubbing. You can even feel him getting harder beneath your hand. 

Hurriedly you unzip his trousers and tug him out, his cock springing to life. 

“Hh.. Engineer, please,” he sighs. 

“Did you just say please without me asking? Good boy,” you look up at his face and grin, and you swear you can see his face flush red. “I think you deserve a reward.”

You grasp his cock all the way around near the base, squeezing gently, hearing his groan. 

“I can't believe I can make you this hard so easy. It's almost surprising.”

You remove your glove and then lean over him, putting your fingers near his mouth. 

“Suck,” is all you need to say before he's darting a tongue out and running them along your fingers. You push a little further and he takes your pointer and middle finger in his mouth, and the feeling is so intensely erotic a rush of lightheadedness hits you. He swirls his tongue around them and then his eyes meet yours. Spy looks positively delicious beneath you, arms restrained above his head, your fingers in his mouth. All you can think about is his tongue on your body, on-

You withdraw your hand and spit in your palm before grabbing his cock again. You have to get this stupid sexy bastard out of your sight or else you’ll go too far. Immediately you're stroking his cock and he thrusts his hips up against yours. He's melting in your hand like a chocolate bar, for God’s sake. 

Your earpiece buzzes alive. 

_“Yo, where the hell are ya, hard hat? Dell’s here, we nearly got em!”_ Scout’s yelling in your ear. 

“Sorry,” you say, raising your free hand up to talk. “Their Spy's got me cornered. Be there soon.”

“Wow, Spy. See? They're looking for me now. Maybe I should leave you here. Huh? You'd probably like that. Tied up, all vulnerable? You'd have to do a walk of shame back to your base once you got out. I know it wouldn't take you long. You're a little rat.”

A grind of your hips against him while you're still jerking him off has him actually moaning. 

“Big words for a loud footed toy maker. How many times this round have I stabbed you?” He finally pants out. 

“You sure like to talk back. Is that part of the fun for you?”

“I don't know, why don't you figure that out? Agh- after all, you are supposed to be the smart one- laborer, I'm going to cum.”

“Can you say please, again? That really got me going last time.”

Spy opens his mouth, an evil smirk on his face, but you both freeze when you hear footsteps. 

“Spy? That you?”

It's the other team’s Sniper. It's sure as hell not yours. Your Sniper doesn't walk like that, he doesn't scrape his boots along the ground. 

Spy, with no hesitation, throws his bound wrists over your neck and pulls you down flush against him, and then he disappears into nothing. And, you quickly realize you're cloaked, too. It doesn't feel any different than being visible. 

Spy has his face buried in your neck, and your hand is still wedged between your legs. He huffs against your ear, hot breaths fanning down your neck. 

“He's not here. Must've been at one point,” the other Sniper remarks. Probably into his own earpiece. “There’s a broken down sentry.”

Even though he's invisible you can still feel him beneath you, and he's still hard as a rock. 

A bad idea starts to develop but, oh, who cares, and you slap your hand over Spy’s mouth.

Sniper walks right past you and up the stairs to your right, and when he's up looking around you jerk your hips against Spy’s cock. He jumps when you do and a quiet grunt passes through your hand. But you keep going, not really caring, and he's raising up to meet you, and then he spasms up, back arching. Just so faintly you can feel his cock throb through your overalls. 

“Yeah, I'll come on back, now. Spook’ll show up, eventually.”

Sniper stalks off the way he came, and when you can't hear footsteps anymore he uncloaks. 

“You wretch,” Spy huffs. “You made me cum on my suit.”

“Your suit? You got your cum on my overalls! That's a lot harder to hide, you snake,” you shoot back, pushing yourself up and glancing at the stain on your overalls. Your hands untie him and then in an instant he’s pushed you down onto your back, taking the lead when he grabs your waist and holds you down. 

“Maybe I should be kind.”

“Oh, maybe you should,” you smirk. “Why don't you clean me off?”

Spy and you share the same knowing gaze and then again using that stupid skilled pink tongue he’s licking at your clothed torso. In seconds his mess he’s made is gone and he seems a bit too pleased with himself. 

“I hope you know this isn’t over. I can't believe you did this during battle.”

“Do you need a little help?” Spy asks you. “You didn't cum.”

“Oh, I'll be fine. I'll just save it for later,” you wink, trying to be funny, and it seems to work as he gives you a faux exasperated glare.

“You are a fool, laborer. Now, I suppose...”

He cloaks again and the pressure that was on your lower half is gone, as well as him. 


	3. Light My Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ummm yeah... remember last chapter where I said i better be careful or else this would turn into a full fledged fic???  
> I was not careful at all...

He’s in your workshop.

Spy’s great at hiding himself when he wants to be hidden, it’s part of his job he does everyday, but when you feel someone’s hand on your waist you know it’s not a phantom.

“Good evening,  _ mignon, _ ” he says softly, right next to your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.

“Hey. Um- sorry I didn’t show up tonight,” you sigh. “I kind of forgot. I just remembered a few minutes ago.”

“It is fine. I see now you’re very busy with your...?”

Spy glances over your shoulder, the side opposite the one his hand is on.

“It’s a radio.”

The absurdity of your statement leaves him speechless. Or maybe he’s just confused.

Sprawled out upon the workbench are little piles of transistors, batteries, a printed circuit board, melted solder, copper coils...

“I mean, it was a radio. It still is, I just need to put it back together.”

“Why did you take it apart in the first place?” he inquires.

“Um, well... honestly, I just wanted to see how it worked. I’ve always wanted one of these bad boys. This is a Regency TR-1, one of the first transistor radios on the market. 1955, I think? Anyways, it’s honestly not that good of a radio. But that was, what, sixteen years ago? Transistor technology has improved so much since then. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if we say goodbye to vacuum tubes all together soon enough and all they sell are transistor radios.”

Spy says nothing again, but you know he’s still there.

“Sorry,” you hum. “Radios aren’t exactly sexy, are they..”

“Not particularly,” Spy remarks dryly. “But the person talking about them is, so I find myself not caring much.”

“You still want to have sex with me after I just went off about radios? You must be desperate,” you joke, turning your head over your shoulder to meet his face inches apart. He smells of his spicy cigarettes and musky cologne.

“Ah, I only find it more intriguing. It shows you are more than just a toymaker with a pretty face.”

Spy gives you a little smile and then leans in to kiss you, the awkward angle hardly even noticeable. He breaks the kiss and stands right behind you, pressing his chest into your back. 

“Let me take care of you, tonight,  _ mignon, s'il te plait _ ,” Spy purrs in your ear. The hand on your waist squeezes at your flesh before ghosting lower over your stomach, and then stops between your legs.

“Must you always wear these?” He asks, meaning your overalls.

“Hey, how else would I be able to hold all these things?” You ask, digging into one of the pockets and pulling out a few nails, er, some staples that you needed for the staple gun, and a pair of pliers.

“And you need those?”

“Just in case,” you point out, and Spy actually huffs out what you’re pretty sure is a laugh. “Come on. I bet you carry much more than me in that fancy little suit.”

“I travel light,  _ mignon.  _ You must have back problems from carrying around overalls that weigh five kilograms.”

“Five-?! No way! I don’t carry that much stuff if I’m not on the battlefield. If they really bother you that much, how about you take them off instead of grilling me about the contents of my pockets?”

“Hm, very well.”

His gloved hands pop the buttons with ease and the front and back fall and pool at your ankles with a clink when your pockets hit the ground. Your underwear goes next with little fanfare. With a gentle shove he’s got you leaned over the workbench, him pressed fast to your back still. Spy taking the lead tonight is... kind of hot, and blood rushes to your cheeks when his hand returns to its prior spot between your legs. Immediately he’s right to work, his hand exploring you eagerly and rubbing and stroking, your heart beat picking up with every second. The sensation is strange with his gloves still on but you can’t complain.

“It is strange to see you so submissive,  _ mignon,”  _ he notes aloud. “It might even seem you like it.”

“Spy, you- you fuckhead,” you sputter. 

You’re lucky you’re even able to form that sentence with the punishingly fast pace he’s touching you at. It feels so good, pleasure striking every other thought from your brain the moment you even try to think. The image of him behind you wearing that sexy pinstripe suit is almost too much. Your legs feel like they’re going to collapse and Spy senses that, pushing his thigh between your legs to try and steady you. Another supportive measure comes into place with his other hand cupping your chin and lifting your head up. He’s nearly grabbing your throat. The leather of his gloves clings to your sweaty skin.

“God, please just fuck me,” you’re able to choke out.

“Are you sure?” he asks, slowing his pace.

“Yes, please, I’m literally begging you.” You think you might sob when he pulls his hands away for a second, leaving you to almost collapse against the workbench. The sound of a bottle of lube opening has become familiar to you.

“W-Wait,” you pant, turning your head around to face him. He’s about to strip off a glove. “Um.. can you leave the gloves on?”

His characteristic devilish smirk crosses his lips. “You like my gloves? As you wish.”

You watch while he pours a generous amount onto his fingers, setting the bottle aside and then running a finger over your hole. Spy slips in with ease, and the feeling of leather instead of his warm skin is so strange but in an erotic way. He doesn’t take that much time to prepare you but you really don’t need it as he’s unzipping his trousers and penetrating you in one smooth glide. You can feel how his abdomen flexes against your back when he’s all the way in you, and he grunts in your ear. Spy pulls nearly all the way out of you, and then ever so slowly pushes back inside of you. 

“You better fuck me, damnit, or I’m gonna take those pliers and-”

You’re cut off by him snaking a hand over your mouth.

“So, so needy tonight, laborer,” he cooes. “If I knew you would be like this I would have come to you a lot sooner during battle. So eager, so- hnn, ready.”

And that’s when he really starts fucking you, pounding into you with reckless abandon. When his other hand finds itself once again between your legs it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you come, him not soon after buried deep in you.

“My legs hurt,” you mumble, and he’s quick once he gains his bearings to help you clean yourself up. Spy helps move you to the worn out old couch in the corner of the workshop and sits with you, smoking a cigarette. You were tired earlier, and now you’re nearly unconscious it feels. You lay against Spy, not really caring what he has to say because his words are so far off, so far away, and then you’re asleep.

When you wake up in the morning Spy is gone, but you’ve been laid down with a pillow under your head and the blanket from your bed draped over your body.


	4. I've Never Been In Love Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pillow talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short lil somethin   
> Post sex talk be like: 😳  
> No sex in this chapter... strange... JKJK lol I just wanted something soft

With each sweep of the fan it blasts cold air across your sweaty bodies. Spy flicks his zippo lighter open and ignites a spicy cigarette, offering you one that you politely decline. He’s leaned against the headboard and you're lying flat, sprawled out on the sheets. 

“ _ Ingénieur _ , pardon my prying, but.. you are not married, are you?” Spy suddenly speaks up. 

“No, no,” you hum, staring up at the ceiling, examining a certain swirl in the wood. “I thought you'd have known that. It feels like my team’s Spy knows more about me than I do.”

“I will admit I have tried to look into your records. But your Medic keeps them under strict watch. He is a smart man. He would notice an absence.”

You yawn and kick your legs out, stretching far as you can. 

“Mm.. yeah,” you absentmindedly agree, not really there as sleep tugs at your eyes. 

“I am surprised,” Spy says. “Not being married at this age is... surprising.”

“Oh, well, just was never in my plan. Most of my dating years were spent in college. And, well.. nevermind, it's dumb.”

“Dumb? Fear not. I am sure it can't be worse than anything either of the Scouts utter.”

You snort a little at his jab and give in easy, post sex endorphins still ebbing through your body. 

“I kinda thought I'd know when I met the one. The clouds would part and give way to the heavens opening up, and bells would toll, and angels would sing from above, and, well.. it hasn't happened yet.”

“You've never been in love, have you?” Spy asks teasingly. 

“Is it obvious? No, I don't think I have been. Have you, mister Ladykiller?” 

“..Once. Love is.. love is hard to explain. And even harder to find. Yet some say that one can have multiple soulmates. Do you think so, laborer? Is it possible to love once, twice, five, ten times?”

“I think there’s a kind of platonic love that's easier to find than, you know, romantic love. I've had friends I've loved platonically, some I'd even say were my soulmates, just not with the kissing or hugging or anything.”

“Mm,” Spy hums, and doesn't say anything for a moment. You almost doze off again but he starts speaking. 

“You are not wrong. When you love someone, you know. You feel it. It is like a drug. You feel so, so, high, everything, it is like the gaps you had become filled.

“I know you'll find someone, laborer. You.. aren't displeasing be around. Not terrible on the eyes. I am sure if you pick your head up from your toys once in a while you will see your, what was it- heavens opening up?”

“Yeah,” you snort. “Thanks. You’re a lot nicer after you’ve come a few times. And poetic.”

“As are you.”


	5. Everyday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You let your imagination get the best of you.

_ Her hands rush up and down his wiry muscles, perspiration leaving behind a slick surface on his bare flesh. _

_ “Dear God, Jacques!” Mary screams, bridled with lust- _

You shut the book, and pause for a brief moment. 

People are allowed to publish this kind of stuff?

The unassuming little romance novel you bought when you went into town was full of filth. It was the only book there you hadn't already read that didn't look terribly boring. You were embarrassed enough purchasing the crimson colored book with a single red rose and a golden stamp of the Eiffel Tower detailing the cover. 

Well, it certainly wasn’t boring. 

The smutty little drama starred Mary, a middle aged widow who moved to Paris after her husband passed away, and Jacques, a young Frenchman fresh out of university working at a bookstore. One thing lead to another and now they're, well..

You peek at the page your thumb is still resting on. 

_ “Please, Jacques- oh my!” _

_ His teeth scrape her throat and his fingers grope at the stiff peaks of her breasts- _

This is  _ so  _ raunchy. You're almost certain your face is flushed with heat from the embarrassment of reading something so scandalous. Oh, god, imagine if  _ Scout  _ saw you reading this. You would never hear the end of it...

You glance at your watch. It’s nearly midnight. You should lay down.

The thought of reading further almost entices you to stay up a little later but then the idea of sleep wins in the end.

The book is securely locked away in your bedside table for further perusing at your leisure. 

Tonight the sheets feel a bit... uncomfortable. Or that’s just you feeling uncomfortable. Spy hasn’t come around for around a week now- he had told you he’d be busy. 

You turn over and stare at the wall for a while, and your thoughts wander back to the book. 

It’s really hard to imagine something like that. Love.

Ever since your conversation with Spy you’ve been thinking more and more about the fabled concept. Love is such a powerful emotion. You’ve seen people do such stupid things for love. One of your professors in college abandoned their tenured post as head of the engineering department and run off to some foreign country to be with the woman he loved. It all sounded so made up, like a big inside joke everyone else was in on besides you.

For a fleeting moment you try to imagine it. Finding someone who can fill in your gaps, complete what you lack. 

Another college experience comes back to you. You took a philosophy class for an extra credit to finish off your bachelors degree and in that time you studied Plato’s  _ Symposium.  _ One of the men in the story told a tale about soul mates in Greek mythology. It spoke of how humans originally had four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Zeus was afraid of their power and split them all into two parts and condemned them to search for their missing half the rest of their lives. Tragically romantic, you thought at the time, and it’s still a sentiment you hold. Maybe some just aren’t meant to find their other half. Maybe it’s a load of garbage. 

They’d be nice. Hopefully. They’d be able to get you to stop working. It’s a fatal flaw of yours. It has been since you were young. It’s one reason you and Dell get along so well- you’re both terrible workaholics. 

You roll onto your back. 

Wouldn't it be funny if it was Spy?

Imagine if a man you’ve been hired to kill day in and day out is your soulmate. 

It's not Spy. No, no, no way in hell is it him. You don’t even know his name, or what he looks like underneath a piece of fabric that hides most of his face.

It wouldn't be that bad if it was him, though. He’s nice, when you're not on the clock trying to kill each other. He smells good. He’s probably quite handsome underneath the mask. Do you think he’d hold your hand in public, show you off? He'd rub your shoulders after a long day of work, treat you to a nice dinner. Maybe he’d kiss the top of your head and take you on dates across the world-

Okay, okay, that's enough, you decide, and you roll onto your side and curl up to fall asleep. 

The thought of Spy’s hand holding yours doesn’t leave your brain until you finally pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short little chapter... Spy isn't even in this one I'm so sorry :pensive: but this fic is in total like 50 pages? and the first chapters so far only make up 20 of them so.... the next two or three chapters are gonna be juicy af.... #be prepared... :smiling_imp:

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!! Hope you enjoyed 😈 Comments are super appreciated :sob:


End file.
